Covered In Rain
by bestdressed
Summary: It's 6th Year and things have changed. Will a new literature class make them realize the feelings that they're hiding from themselves? H/D Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Authors Note: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of it's characters, if I did Harry Potter would be a lot more pornographic. However, I do own Professor Graham and the Literature class. This first chapter will be short, I swear to you they will get longer. It would make me ever so happy if you would review. Most poetic lines and chapter titles are property of Evanescence. Enjoy. Life.  
  
  
  


**Covered In Rain**  
  
  
**Chapter 1 .:I'm Dying Again:.**  
  
**Slytherin 6th Year Boys Bathroom 2:25am.**  
  
  
I hope I'm dying this time, but God knows I'm not lucky enough for that. Draco Malfoy doesn't die, he just gets pushed as far as he can go and then left there to suffer.   
  
I was confronted today. Apparently Blaise saw the slashes along my stomach as I slept this morning. He wasn't remotely concerned.  
  
Figures.  
  
He only wanted to know why I cut my stomach and not my wrists.  
  
Wrists are too easy, I told him, people who slit their wrists want other people to know and they want those people to help them. Then he walked away. He didn't even ask what I wanted, and it's not much.   
  
I want nothing.  
  
I want to feel nothing.  
  
I want to be nothing.  
  
It's the one thing I want, and the only thing I can't have.  
  
**Gryffindor 6th Year Boys Dormitory**   
  
Sixteen year old Harry Potter was lying awake in his bed for the 5th time that week. They had been in school for one full week, and he hadn't had a sleep-filled night since he had arrived.  
  
His thoughts were random, but they ultimately fell back to Malfoy. The boy hadn't been himself lately, less awake, more thin.   
  
As he thought about it, there wasn't any real reason for him to care, but being The-Boy-Who's-Concerned for everyone, it just ended up that way.  
  
The Gryffindor on his left sat up in bed and pulled back his curtains.  
  
"Don't tell me you're awake again, Harry. You really need to get some sleep." He whispered groggily, reaching to pull his sheets off.  
  
"I know," said Harry, "I've just been thinking."  
  
"About what?" asked Dean, sliding off his bed and heading to the bathroom.  
  
"Just things." Harry replied through a fake yawn, and closing his eyes.  
  
Dean looked at him, "Well, those things aren't more important than the Quidditch game you're going to lose from sleep deprivation, so go to bed."  
  
Sighing, Harry re-adjusted himself on his bed and attempted to go to sleep.  
  
**Slytherin 6th Year Boys Bathroom 3:10am**  
  
Draco Malfoy was completely still on his back, faking sleep and waiting for the house elf who would inevitably clean him up and magic him back to bed once they thought he was unconscious. His stomach was bleeding, mainly from one deep gash that ran into other runnels from his other attempts. Now that his few hours of angst were over, all he wanted was to be in a dreamless sleep, but the pain was so bad this time, he knew if he tried to stand himself it would be too much, so he waited for help. He slowly reached for the sparkling dagger on his right and pulled it towards him, trying to keep the sound of it scraping on the stone of the shower floor to a minimum. He brought it to his side and slid it in his pocket.  
  
Then he began to cry.  
  
Draco always cried after one of his episodes, his feelings immediately changing from desperately wanting to die to desperately wanting to live and salvaging what was left of his life. He cried out to anyone who could hear him through the stone walls that divided the bathroom and the dorms. He cried out for someone who could help him, knowing in the back of his mind that no one would.  
  
With a voice thick with tears and pain he cried weakly, "Help me. I think I'm dying again." and his world faded to black.  
  
  


Review. Email any extra comments to Jayd5187@aol.com, or if you would like to know when I'm updating.-Jadyn 


	2. Chapter 2

****

Authors Note: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of it's characters. However, I do own Professor Graham and the Literature class. It would make me ever so happy if you would review. Most poetic lines and chapter titles are property of Evanescence. Enjoy. Life.

Covered In Rain

Chapter 2 . :The Shifting of Gears: .

Slytherin 6th Year Dormitories. 7:20am.

Draco Malfoy slowly opened his eyes to find himself wrapped warmly in a green comforter. Remembering the night before, he pushed down the sheets and looked at his half healed marks on has stomach, and groaning slipped out of bed.

As he moved toward the showers for the second time in the past 24 hours, he became suddenly annoyed at the normal quiet of the 6th year dormitory. Draco hated that silence, the silence that said that most Slytherins didn't care enough to say good morning, and he turned on the shower, beginning to wash away all the evidence that _he _did.

Hogwarts Great Hall 7:50am.

The Gryffindor house sat eating and chatting as Harry Potter stared across the room in a sort of dazed trance. He was staring at an empty space, but he was too tired to look away.

As he stared, barely hearing the meaningless talk around him, the seat became occupied. By Draco Malfoy. The blonde boy looked up at Harry with confusion in his eyes, but quickly catching himself, sneered and made Harry turn his eyes away to his housemates who had stopped talking a few moments earlier to watch him.

"He hasn't been sleeping." Was the voice of Dean Thomas.

"Yeah, I noticed." said Ron.

"No, you haven't"

"Yes, I have."

"You couldn't possibly have noticed. You sleep deeper than anyone I know, with the noises Seamus makes in his sleep."

All the attention of the group turned to Dean and Ron, except for Hermione's, who softly asked, "Harry, are you alright?"

"I'm fine Hermione." Harry sighed, "Really." he added noting her raised eyebrows. "I'm just going to go back to my room for a little bit before our first class." And with that he got up and walked out the door with all the eyes of the Gryffindor house and those of Draco Malfoy on him.

For once, Hermione had no idea what was going on, so she changed the subject. "Does anyone know anything about Professor Graham?" A couple of eyes turned to the empty seat at the Professors table.

"I hear she's brilliant." Said Seamus, his mouth full of toast. "Since she's the first Literature teacher ever at Hogwarts, us and the 6th year Slytherins will be the first here at Hogwarts that she teaches." Excited chatter followed and finishing eating, Hermione leaned back and watched her friends amusedly. She was glad to be back at school.

Draco Malfoy was tired and not the least bit hungry. He sat silently and listened to the light arguments circulating the table, not in the mood to think, much less join in as usual. He knew someone must have noticed his drastic behavior change since coming back to Hogwarts the week before. He also knew that caring for someone was a weakness, and no one outwardly showed their weaknesses in Slytherin. Draco had weaknesses, and the only one who knew about them was a very unlikely person. Hermione Granger. Looking up at her to flash a small smile that she hastily returned, Draco go up and gracefully exited the Great Hall.

Empty Classroom 8:10am.

Draco entered the empty classroom a small distance from the Great Hall and was soon joined by Hermione. The two had crossed paths on vacation in Italy over the summer, Draco being forced to attend a weeklong Italian culture seminar, and Hermione pleading with her parents to be allowed to go. They had come to realize that they had a lot in common, and Draco had found his someone to talk to. Ever since that vacation Hermione and Draco had been owling each other frequently and soon enough, Hermione knew most of Draco's problems and had been trying to help.

"You look tired." Hermione stated simply.

"Good eye." Draco replied, looking any place but her.

"Well...did you sleep?" she asked. 

"For a few hours. I'll be fine, really. I just need to adjust to being back at school."

"Did you eat?"

"No."

"Draco you need to eat!" Hermione nearly yelled. "I'm not going to standby and watch you waste away for no good reason!"

Draco laughed quietly, "no good reason..."

"Oh, come off it, you're not as tragic as you think you are." Hermione huffed. Draco looked up smiling. He liked Hermione for knowing when to be concerned and when to tell him off. He looked at her knowing that she was trying not to smile and she changed the subject.

"You know, Harry hasn't been sleeping much either. He didn't eat today."

"Oh, don't tell me Boy Wonder actually has problems."

"Shut up. I wonder what it could be. He's not usually like this. He hasn't been since the beginning of 5th year." When realization hit her she gasped. "Oh, it must be something terrible!" She looked over at Draco who hadn't been paying attention, just absently rubbing and looking at his stomach."Draco?" questioned Hermione. She slowly walked over to him and lifted his shirt. "Gods Draco! What are you doing to yourself?" Draco pulled his shirt down indignantly. "We have class." and he walked out of the room leaving behind a very distraught Hermione.

***

The Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws filed back into the school after a particularly fun Care of Magical Creatures class. The animal they had been studying was a Phoenix, and with their prior experience, Harry, Ron and Hermione had earned Gryffindor quite a few house points.

It was with quick footing that the Gryffindors walked to their next class, Literature with Professor Graham, not only were they excited to meet the supposed brilliant teacher, they were excited to go to a class that didn't involve magic at all. Following Sir Nicholas, they headed down a corridor they hadn't seen before, with walls that were covered in ancient literary works with sparkling letters and portraits of people arguing whilst using some very complicated and long words.

"This, is the literature wing" said Sir Nicholas finally leading them to the end of it, where a tall woman, with long brown hair and glasses with deep red robes waited for them.

"Thank you, Sir Nicholas. I can take it from here. Welcome Gryffindors, Oh! and the Slytherins!" The 6th year Gryffindors turned around to see the Slytherins coming up behind them. Professor Graham clasped her hands together in delight, obviously oblivious to the Slytherin's reputation and said, "Great! Now that you're all here we can begin." and she led them into the well-lit classroom behind her.

The desks were in horizontal rows of four, and she quickly began reading off her list of seating placement. She placed Dean, Hermione, Pansy and Crabbe together, and then in the third row, Harry, Seamus, Blaise and...Draco Malfoy. The two sat on opposite ends of the row, leaving Blaise and Seamus to argue between them. So far class wasn't going so well.

**

Professor Graham began her class sitting atop her desk.

"Many of you are probably wondering what place a literature class could have in a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but I assure you this class belongs her just as much as your Potions or Transfiguration classes do. Literature comes straight from the imagination, and contrary to what you might believe, imagination _is_ magic. 

"This year we will be studying many pieces by witches and wizards like yourself, whom you may never have heard of. We will, also, be studying some works of muggles." Many groans were heard from the Slytherins in the room.

"As I said, imagination is magic, which means that muggles also posses magic. In this class you will also be required to write a few pieces and a few of you could read your work aloud if you wish to do so. Any questions?" She looked expectantly at the class.

"How much homework will we do in here?" Asked Goyle. Professor Graham smiled.

"You will most likely have one short written piece do every week along with a larger piece thrown in every once in a while." The class erupted into groans again and she just continued smiled.

"Since we have so much work to do, lets begin now."

**

The class actually did turn out to be as brilliant as they had thought, and they had begun reading "Glass House" by Matilda Errington. They had their first assignment of the class then as well. To write a few lines of anything, that related to how they felt themselves. The three, Harry, Hermione and Ron sat in the common room eager to write their pieces. Ron and Hermione quickly began writing as Harry stared at his blank paper and new he wouldn't finish anything right then.

"I'm going to bed." He told them and tried to pretend he couldn't feel their worried eyes on his retreating back.

**

It was deep into the night, at least 2 am when Harry began thrashing in his bed. It was his usual nightmare, but instead of waking up as he usually did, the scene replayed in his head over and over, the line "kill the spare" being repeated over and over. Finally, sweating and shaking, Harry forced his eyes to open and stared at the darkness that his bed hangings provided him. He knew he was ready to write now. He crawled to the edge of his bed and took a his materials out of his trunk before sliding back on his bad. He picked up his wand, and with a quick muttering of "Lumos" his little area of darkness was filled with light. Not wanting to waste his horror, he began to write furiously.

_I tried to kill my pain_

But only brought more

I lay dying 

And I'm pouring crimson regret 

And betrayal. 

I'm dying, praying, bleeding, and screaming. 

Am I too lost, to be saved?

Am I too lost? 

My wounds cry for the grave. 

My soul cries for deliverance. 

Will I be denied? 

Christ, Tourniquet. 

My suicide.

Now sobbing, dropping tears onto his fresh ink, replaying old horrific memories, he quickly scratched down,

I want to die.

**

Draco Malfoy lie awake too miserable to go to sleep but also too tired to begin his cutting regime again. His thoughts flickered over his day, Herbology, History of Magic, Arithmancy and then to his new Literature class. When Professor Graham had first mentioned that they would be studying the works of muggles, he assumed the whole class would be a joke, but her happy demeanor and they way she introduced material forced him to enjoy it with the rest of the class. She had assigned them a short piece to write, and Draco had already written his, after being assured by her that only one person would be reading it. She had told them to write about something that they felt passionately about, something that they loved or hated, to write about your strongest emotion. Draco had written about his father.

For as long as he could remember, Draco had known that his father was using him. He used him to make himself look good in front of Voldemort, he used him to look good in front of his peers, he even used him to cheat on his mother. For as long as he could remember, Draco had always loved his father. 

Lucius Malfoy was a man not to be crossed, and not only was he mean and sneaky, he was arrogant as all hell. Draco didn't like him. He didn't like him, but he always loved him. Draco loved his father, for reasons not even he could fathom, but he would never like him.

Thinking about his father made Draco upset, and immediately he felt the urge to die again. To die and get away from all the people that didn't know or care about him. To get as far away from the man who intended on taking his life and breaking it in half.

Draco Malfoy closed his eyes and thought about what it would be like to not have parents. To be completely alone when he wanted. He thought about what it would be like to be Harry Potter.

See, they get longer with every chapter. 

Some notes: Harry's "poem" is from the song "Going Under" by Evanescence. "Glass House" by Matilda Errington does not exist, so don't bother looking it up, I just made it up. I actually started this story about 2 months ago, and I was originally going to call this story "Bring Me To Life" but since someone else posted before me with that title, I renamed it.

Review. Email any extra comments to Jayd5187@aol.com, or if you would like to know when I'm updating.-Jadyn


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